


Sweet Honeycomb

by AngeliqueBB



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: A very misguided use of the LACE, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Explicit Sexual Content, I don't know, Is Sauron being abusive? Is this in a world where things might end up differently from canon?, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Why do I always fall for the problematic ships? I wonder, first person POV, oh boy, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliqueBB/pseuds/AngeliqueBB
Summary: In which Celebrimbor fights tradition and slowly surrenders his body and soul to the one he loves.His lovely Annatar.
Relationships: Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Sweet Honeycomb

**Author's Note:**

> I dont even write fanfiction anymore, but it's the NaNoWriMo and I got to chapter 11 of my current novel and you know when... you brain starts frying up and the only thing that might help is writing smut of Silmarillion characters? Yea.  
> Anyways, for anyone who saw an email notification and thought I was about to update any Jojo fanfiction I am so sorry for y'all rest in bloody pieces D: 
> 
> I love Celebrimbor so much and I want Sauron to be happy. I think Sauron got out of his situation too easily? I mean, let me deceive this guy here and make some evil rings and then proceed to torture and kill this guy here and all Eru did to him was make him unfuckable? I mean. Girl. Eru you should've evaporated him. Anywyas. Sauron is a king. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this quick thing it's pretty cute and will give you a chuckle.
> 
> P.S. I did not beta read this shit nor did I check for typos and mistakes so there will be a few I hope you don't mind lmao   
> (If you do mind, tho, feel free to copy that into a Word doc and go through it urself? I mean, I would love some free beta reader work hehehehe)

I am... distraught, for the lack of a better word.

Oh, no, not really, let me try to elaborate. I am a little desperate, terrified, intrigued and deeply troubled. Can all of these mix together and form the word distraught? Because I find that setting a name to the feeling I am feeling usually makes me understand myself and not… well, freak out.

My family has enough cases of people freaking out, I am not set to be another one. I made a deal with myself ages ago that I am not to be yet another Feanorian that will go down in history as a madman, or a pyromaniac, or a psychopath or any other misguided term. Oh, don’t get me wrong, despite all their wrongdoings I still have love for them, and I am unable to deny how much of a genius my grandfather was. However, I must set a line where a line must be set.

And that’s why I cannot allow myself to freak out because of something… like the current situation I’m in.

I’m in love. And it’s not good. And no one, absolutely no one can know about it, so I am left alone to my own devices, to try and make sense of what I’m feeling. Of what I’m dealing with. The energy in my soul is burning as bright as it has ever been; I feel my fëa longing to join someone else’s. I want to let it join. I want to see the light of the Eldar that lightly resides inside me join the light of someone else.

Might sound romantic and idealistic and, well, perhaps I am a romantic, but the issue I find myself in is that things are not coming together the way I expected.

My father was the only son of Feanor who managed to get himself married. Blame the madness running through my family, but all of my very distinct uncles preferred fighting and crafting instead of marriage. My father was, for the years of my childhood, the person I idolized the most. He was my hero, and my teacher, and my King. In some sort of way, I saw his legacy being corrupted by the bloody Oath and all the tragedy that follows my family, but I still, deep inside, relish in the fatherly love he reserved for me.

What I’m trying to say is that my father taught me much, not only craft, but he taught me the ways and customs and he taught me to appreciate marriage and bonding. “Oh, Tyelpe, I hope you don’t end up like your uncles, slaving under work and princeship. Marriage is such a sacred part of life, I count myself lucky to have found your mother.” He would say, touching my shoulder and showing pure memory in the shadows of his eyes. “Don’t ever forget that.”

And I never did. Reason as to why I find myself sitting in my forge, with multiple patterns around and absolutely no desire to forge anything. I remember getting down to my forge with the intent of clearing my mind and slaving my body under the thick hammer, and yet, here I am, sitting down on the bench, hunched like an ugly creature, beating myself over and over.

Oh, sure, a marriage with a celebration and all the customs would be lovely, but I know this is not something I can have.

Annatar is… complicated.

He is brilliant, the most beautiful creature to ever grace my eyes. His mind is the sharpest, his mouth the quickest, and his hands… not only good for craft, but good for touching. My eyes go wide as I catch myself having more and more impure thoughts. No! This is not how it is supposed to be… I have to wait until I’m ready to join my fëa in matrimony, I simply can’t go and disregard it all! A marriage to Annatar is, unfortunately, impossible.

I know that.

He knows that.

And yet, the damned man won’t care. He simply won’t care; he ignores the customs and appears as this beautiful, untouchable creature that seems to carry all the light of the creation in his eyes and hair, but his hands are always carrying the burning fire of sin. And, again, absolutely no one can know how much I yearn to surrender and let him do what his hands always promise me.

I breath in and out a couple of time. I am about to freak out. No, no, no freaking out, I tell myself. Have good thoughts? Nice thoughts. Something to cover my growing anxiety over the fact that I want, very thoroughly, to be boned by my lover.

And to make matters worse! Some of my subjects don’t really enjoy Annatar’s presence. Which always makes me wonder why. I mean, I understand that he is an Elf of little patience and he does… snap at people sometimes, but it is just his way of being himself. It is… charming. Weirdly charming, how he will shoo the dwarves (“I am in constant fear I might step on them, Celeb.”) anytime they get too close and yet, has only kind and sweet words for me when we’re in the confinement of my (our?) forge.

Sweet words dripping with honey and wine, as he kisses my neck and tells me how deliciously firm my backside is. And then, as he got too close to touching me where he should not, I step away in burning shame and tell him that I suddenly remembered leaving a carrot pie on the oven. That’s how I run away from him. A pie in the oven, a item in the forge. The other day I was so flustered that I accidentally told him I had left a mushroom stew in the forge.

“Honey, are you cooking in the forge now?” He would ask me with a smirk, completely aware of why I was running away. I would not answer, as my face was burning in shame and my body burning in desire.

When I close my eyes, I can hear his voice. He has such a deep voice for his fine and fair complexion, different from the golden light of my skin, after years and years working in the forge. I’ve always wondered how Annatar can be so good at the forge and still maintain the fairness of his skin.

His voice floods my ears and I try to make it stop, but then I realize that it is not in my head at all.

“Oh, dear Eru, you’re back.” I say with a strangled voice, turning back to see Annatar leaning on the doorframe. He is still wearing his travelling cloak and his silver hair is tied back in a high ponytail. Devilish handsome, perfect cheekbones and a sharpness to his eyes that promptly pierces my heart. Oh, how I love his face!

“I told you I would be back in two days.” He said, approaching me and unclasping his cloak. My hand itch and I step forward to grab it for him. He looks around for a second. “I see many patterns laying around… have you started working on the rings?”

“I shall start soon enough.” I say and go to hand his cloak somewhere safe. “How was your travel? You must be tired, the forge is no place to rest.” I say quickly, trying to shoo him away from the forge.

My efforts are fruitless. I release a tiny sound when I feel his hands holding my shoulders from behind. He is smelling like the woods; fresh and green and as if the wind had hugged his body in entirety. The smell of an Elf who returned from a travel. “O-oh… hello, Annatar, I may not be smelling very good from the forge work…”

“You smell divine.” He answers and runs his nose through my neck, pushing my raven hair to lie on top of my right shoulder. Shills run down my spine. Yes. This feels good. “You haven’t been working, now… the fire is turned off and the temperature is chilly in here. No tools out of place, just the flurry of patterns. Unused patterns. Why must you lie to me, Celeb?”

I swallow and turn my face to the side. “I was about to start…” He licks a line on my neck and I jump. “Please, don’t start.”

“Why not? I missed you from the two days we were apart.” Annatar says, pouting with his perfect round lips. I want to kiss him very much. He is a good kisser, I suppose, although I never kissed anyone else. “I missed so much of you… your gentle soul, your calloused yet delicate hands, the smell of your hair… this sweet body of yours.” He smiled and I feel the heat creeping up and down.

“I… maybe we can spend some time together in my chambers.”

“Can we?” Annatar turns me to face him and squints. “Perhaps we should, first, make sure there are no pies in the oven, any unfinished swords in the forge, or an unfinished pie in the forge.”

“You’re no fun…” I say and hide my face in his chest, breathing in his wild scent. “I have told you multiple times… we can’t do anything that goes against the customs… it feels wrong to me.”

“And what about our love?” He asks in the softest voice, killing me on the inside. “And the fire that burns inside of us, my love? You are my beautiful red star, and we have decided to give ourselves to each other, haven’t us? Isn’t that enough? You know I have never stepped foot in Vallinor… all of the laws and customs make no sense to me.”

I look into his eyes and I find nothing but love. He is right, in a way. I am the one trying to force my upbringing on him. It means nothing for an Elf who never stepped foot in Vallinor. It should not mean anything for a person who is in love. What is… sex, if not another form of love? These words echo in my head and I bite into my lower lip, breathing hard and letting the warmness of his body wash away my anxiety.

“Will you allow me to love you properly? Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, will you allow me to introduce you to feeling and sensations you still are unfamiliar with?” His voice is like thunder and molten lava inside of me. All of my skin is prickling with sweat and excitement. I have ignored my desire for all this time, tried to push it away. I raise my eyes towards him, and I slowly nod my head.

A flush of warmness spreads inside my belly and I feel a little dizzy. Annatar’s strong arms catch me and he finally kisses me. A kiss that tastes like a promise and mint; he enjoys munching on mint leaves more than anyone I’ve ever met. I could get drunk in that feeling… I think I am. It’s just as powerful as drinking honeyed wine for hours during the night.

I am drunk on his kiss.

My backside hits the table and Annatar spreads my legs. There is no coming back now, I tell myself, because he is between my legs and I already feel blood going down. It’s such a strong feeling, inebriating, intoxicating. I close my eyes and moan, my tongue relentlessly rubbing against his. It’s wet and the forge is a close space; the wet noises of our kissing are everywhere. “A… a…” I can’t finish his name; anytime I try to say it, a wave of pleasure runs through my body.

“Honey…” He growls against my lips and I feel like a small animal being devoured by a wolf. That is, if such wolf had caring hands. “Let me take you to your chamber.”

I have no idea how I managed to get there without catching spontaneous fire like my grandfather did. My body, for once, certainly feels like it’s catching fire and I am thankful for the long tunic covering my intimate part. I would catch fire if anyone caught me like that.

Annatar, on the other hand… is unbothered. No one in this entire place can tell him what to do or what to say. Nothing affects him. Dear Eru, I wish I had some of his cool.

We’re inside my chamber and seconds before the door closes, my body is being attacked. I jump out of surprise and then I melt, feeling my muscles going limp – and my cock going hard – as he takes me on his lap and sits down on the bed with me. He have kissed and we have groped a little, but this feels different. There’s burning fire now, unleashed and unapologetic desire. Annatar’s hands grab the inside portion of my thighs and I moan.

Before I know it, I am grinding down on him. It’s exhilarating, for his cock is also hard and poking on my back side. I shift my balance and try to rub our cocks through the fabrics, nearly falling over at how intense it is. Annatar holds me and chuckled. “Careful…” He said in a sweet voice. “There, honey, lay down on the bed.”

I do as he say and he raises from the mattress, giving a turn in the center of the sleeping chamber. My eyes go wide as I realize what he is about to do. It’s… so filthy, but Annatar is slowing removing his clothing only for me. He is there, like a sculpted divine statue, as if he were a Valar himself, removing his tunic and breeches. The blue of his eyes never leave me, the piercing quality of his gaze going straight to my hardening cock. I am staining my breeches and I can feel it.

His chest and stomach are lean and strong, his skin is as pale as his face, and when the breeches finally hit the ground, I gasp out loud. Between his legs, hanging thick and flushed a delightful shade of red, I can see his cock. The dim light of my room is enough to make his cock gleam, as if that cock itself contained the entire light of the Eldar.

And that’s as sacrilegious as it can get.

No, wait, it can get worse (better?) for he starts stroking himself right there in front of me. My chin hits the ground. It’s like the culmination of all my filthy thoughts, the thoughts I tried so hard to shove to the back of my mind. A sudden flurry of emotion grabs at my heart and I stumble forward, falling to my knees in front of him. Annatar raised a surprise eyebrow and then smiles, ushering me forward.

“Come, love… have a taste.”

It is entering my mouth. I feel it coming hot and wet, and I close my eyes because I can’t believe. His voice guides me, a gentle hand on my face pulling my long hair back. A mix of salty and sweet floods my mouth; I have another elf’s manhood inside my mouth and it feels awesome. I love him so much, and I bob my head because I want to make sure he is feeling good.

The lack of expertise is compensated by my enthusiasm, or so I hope it is. Annatar is dripping in front of me like a melting candle. “Honey… you’re so sweet.” He says.

“No… you’re the one tasting sweet now.” I say shyly, kissing the crown of his cock. Annatar smiled at me and lifts me from the ground, taking me back to bed. He peels my clothing off and the warm night wind hits my flushed skin. His hands, always his hands, treating me carefully and making me pliant and ready for him.

An amalgamation of feelings take me. His words of love, the touch of his hands, the… wetness that suddenly appears on my backside. Where did he get that? What is that? Why does it feel so good? I am lying on my side, I feel his hair – now free from the ponytail – hanging in locks over my shoulder. There are fingers inside of me, making me his, tying out bodies and spirits together. There is no coming back now, I remind myself. There is no marriage ceremony, but there is a celebration. With only the two of us.

I knew it was coming and it still blew me away. The oil helps a lot, but its too much. My untouched body burns a little and I cry in pain. “Hush, hush, my love.” He said, caressing my stomach and chest. “It will feel better soon enough.”

And it does, although the pressure never really goes away. It is like being completely full, like there was something missing and now its suddenly here. Both physically and metaphorically. A presence in the back of my mind, a string tied around my heart. My Annatar is making me his.

We rock forward and he slams inside of me. My eyes are closed and my cock is leaking, my entire body on the verge of spontaneously combusting. Is that what love feels like? Like you’re about to die in the fire anytime? It’s maddening and comforting at the same time. Annatar noticed I am overthinking this – as usual – and turns my face to kiss me. His hand grabs my cock and I lose it.

Yes.

Make me yours, Annatar, for this is the greatest gift you’re giving me.

We’re changing positions, I am now back in his lap, but he is the one doing all the work. The sound of our lovemaking, our moans and the slapping of our bodies are driving me insane. I can’t believe this feels so good. As he finally embraces me completely, I feel the release flooding inside of me. My body is still aroused, and as we both start panting like mad, Annatar finished me off with his hand.

The tingling, also, never really goes away. In my body and in the back of my mind, there is a tingling. Insistent, soft and sweet but still insistent, there’s now a gentle remained that I belong to someone else. My eyes widen. Have I done the right thing? I feel happy and satisfied, but I can’t ignore the bloody tingling.

Annatar holds me and kisses me and, for now, I am able to ignore the tingling.

“I love you.” I blurt out.

“And I love you, my sweet honeycomb.”

“You and your little nicknames…” I smile, looking inside his eyes. Sometimes, I swear I can see real fire inside them. I wonder what that means.

“I am never tired of addressing you in the cutest ways I can think of.” Annatar shrugs. “This felt so good, my love, I want to ravish your sweet body all days, all nights, until the lights leave this world, and it is finally remade. And, guess what? I will hunt you down in the next one.”

We share a chuckle and I rest my head on his chest. This activity is certainly very tiring. I need to rest. I close my eyes, his hands caressing my hair. Annatar mentions something about the rings again, but I am already drifting into the oblivions by then. We will eventually get to them.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had fun.  
> I love the ending tbh. It's ~enigmatic~ uhuhuhuhu
> 
> Bye yall see you again in April idk


End file.
